Battle Scars
by iluvvikingvamps
Summary: This is for the weekly one shot challenge. There will be no more to this story, it is just a little something I threw together based on Week #2 guidelines for the challenge. I hope you get a picture in your mind...


WEEKLY ONE-SHOT CHALLENGE (CHALLENGE #2)

The battlefield has quieted. The sounds of clashing metal that had ringed out through the sunlit hours had evaporated with the oncoming twilight.

The grass was damp. Wet with the blood of the men who had faced off here, the men who had fallen.

I could not lift my body. The muscles were limp and lifeless. Pain radiated from the gash in my head. The only tangible sensation was that of my blond locks, caked in mud and the dried blood that had oozed from where the blade had met my scalp, clinging to my face. My quick reflexes were all that had kept my head connected to my shoulders.

The silence was deafening. Surely my fellow troops would be coming for me, coming to retrieve my body? They would see that I lived. They would bandage my wound; bring me water to quench the dryness in my throat.

The horizon was gone and darkness now ruled. I saw no sight of burning torches. I heard no sound of rustling leaves to signal the approach of someone, anyone, who would be my savior.

It was at that moment, through the quiet night and throbbing of my skull, that I heard a noise coming to me. Try I did, I could not move to meet the face of my rescuer.

"This one," the voice of a woman spoke. Her sandaled feet at my head had paused.

I felt hands grab my legs and arms. A moan escaped my lips. A broken bone in my lower leg twisted, sending a spark of agony to my brain.

"Gently," the woman directed. "Take him to my tent."

My face was still toward the grass. Whoever it was that was carrying me from the battlefield, at this time chose to remain anonymous.

I tried to speak to those carrying me, but the words would not come out. A sudden feeling of warmth washed over me. The objects around me had become lit.

I was put onto a bed. One made of smooth fabrics. It was soft, like the one's I heard tales told of while I was growing up, that Oden would have in Valhalla. I was turned onto my back.

My vision was blurry. I tried to focus on those around me. A hand held onto mine. It was thin and soft. A woman's, I was sure.

The fog my eyes had been accustomed to faded away. I saw the woman, brown hair that drifted down her back. She was holding a bowl. Sitting on the edge of my resting place, the woman rung out a cloth in the bowl and wiped warm my face.

I was unable to move. The woman continued her task. She did not speak a word or meet my gaze.

"Hello Eric," I heard the gentle voice speak. It was the voice from the battlefield again. "You have been gravely injured. I can help you."

I watched as the female sat next to me. She was a creature of extreme beauty. Her eyes were pale blue, like those of the sky after a rain. Her hair was light yellow, almost white. She let it flow freely, the waves circling her face and cascading down.

I opened my lips to speak, using all that I had within to get the words out.

"Valkyrie?" I asked of her.

The woman chuckled loudly. Her amusement held a hint of terror.

"Valkyrie?" she repeated while laughing. "Eric, you think me some sort of angel?"

The woman's laughter continued. I did not understand the humor.

"I suppose," she went on, tempering her giggle. "You could think me an angel, if it pleases you." The woman bent closer to me to make sure I could hear her words clearly.

"My name is Aeron. I can give you a gift." She ran her hand down the side of my face to my chest. Her hands felt of ice. I shivered at her touch. She pressed on my chest and I winced. The pain was almost uncontrollable.

"I am giving you a choice. You do not have to except this gift," she went on, seemingly unphased by my pain. "Should you refuse this gift, make no error; you will die before this night ends."

I listened intently to this Aeron. If she were not one of the Valkyrie come to take my body home, I could not fathom what type of being she would be. I knew she was not mortal. Her look and speak was different than that of the women from my village.

Aeron continued. "Should you accept this gift, my Northman, you will live on to see another battle. You will again be able to raise your sword high and lay claim to not just one village or people, but to all people everywhere. I do not offer this lightly and I offer only once."

I grasped for air. My chest ached and the effort to breath became near impossible.

"Will you accept my gift or do you wish to see your ancestors?" she asked.

I continued to gasp. The everlasting night was encroaching on me. My eyes began to fail me. Valhalla was calling to me.

Yet, the appeal of Aeron's offer was enticing. The battlefield was all that I knew. I longed to seek out those who had injured me. The conquer the lands to which my people travelled many days across the vast waters. To rule, as my father had done before he took his spot with King Oden.

"Your time drifts away, Northman. Do you accept my gift?"

With my last ounce of strength, I managed to nod my head.

"Yes." I muttered.

Aeron's smile was vicious as she smiled at my agreement. From behind her lips, two sharp teeth made their appearance.

I could not move. My body was frozen with fear. What was this creature?

What had I done?

Aeron bent her head to my neck and with a titanic amount of pain, she bit into me. I could feel some warm fluid running from the bite. I could feel her suckling from the wound.

This Angel of Death was drinking my blood. She was taking my life, and I lay there helpless to do anything about it.

My veins burned as she drank. My body and all the pain I had felt from my battle injuries, was multiplied tenfold.

My life and all that it had been, drifted away with my blood. My very soul was on fire.

Then all was black.

I am not sure how long I was gone. I came to my senses while being carried by Aeron. She was cradling me in her arms, walking in the night out on the battlefield to which I had fallen.

She stopped moving. I could hear a sound. It was that of the Earth moving. I could hear the thump of mud being piled onto itself. It was digging.

Aeron gently placed my body into the hole in the Earth, the walls of mud and rock surrounding me. Aeron stood, looking at me with admiration. The woman who had washed me stood next to her, a shovel in her hand and a pile of muck next to her.

"Is he not perfect?" Aeron asked of her assistant. "So beautiful. He will make for an honorable Vampire. A fine choice for a mate."

The assistant nodded in response.

Aeron climbed into the whole with me. She laid her arms over me, holding me as if we were lovers. A slow rain began. Rumbles of thunder and flashes of lightning in the distance signaled the oncoming storm as it approached.

"Gravedigger, when you dig my grave, could you make it shallow so that I can feel the rain?" Aeron asked of her aide.

"Yes, my master," she spoke. With the shovel in hand, the helper began to cover Aeron and my almost lifeless body with the muck from our grave. One by one, we were incased.

And thus, a vampire was born.


End file.
